The Grand Pact (The Grand Men #1)(132)

She shakes her hands off and goes to open the door to leave.

Everything inside of me seems to rattle, and I know the next words out of my mouth will be pure, unfiltered emotion.

“Chelsea,” I snap.

Her eyes glare over her shoulder as she waits.

I swipe at my eyes and bin my tissue. “Thank you.”

“What for?” she sneers, rolling her eyes.

I step up to her, lifting my chin as I look down my nose at her. “For being a first-class cunt and making this easy for me.”

Her jaw just about hits the floor, and I push past her into the reception. I don’t go to my desk, and I don’t tell Monica I’m leaving.

Instead, I push out through the doors and take the thirty-minute walk to St Paul’s Chapel.



To a dear friend,

Well, Lucy, I woke this morning feeling quite awful, and instead of calling you like I normally would, I felt the need to pick up a pen and paper. It’s been many years since I’ve written a letter and something tells me you’ll enjoy receiving something a little different from me.

How are you, Lucy? I hope your trip has been full of joyous, sunny memories with your family? I’ve been sitting in my chair out in the sunroom thinking about the vacations I went on with my Elsie.

There wasn’t many and nowhere near enough in her eyes.

Another grave regret of mine, unfortunately.

If I could go back, if I had that second chance, I’d drop everything to take one more trip—we’d go to Italy!

The days seem to feel slower here compared to back home. Time hasn’t felt the same for many years, but it’s as if I’m counting down the days as I pull myself from the bed each morning. The silly thing is, I have nowhere to be at the end of it.

No one is waiting on me.

Elsie and I wanted to retire here, and I know I should stay and live out the dream.

She’d be looking down on me right now smiling, I’m sure of it.

She couldn’t devote a full lifetime to me or her dreams, but I plan to give her everything that’s left of mine.

Crazy thing is love.

The letter ends abruptly, and I struggle to comprehend what that means.

I look up at the sky from the bench I’m sitting on. The first time I met Ralph was on this very bench, and I revel in the moment as snowflakes settle like pricking needles on my cheeks, reminding me that I am very much alive.

It’s as if I’m counting down the days as I pull myself from the bed each morning.

175 days.

Elsie and I wanted to retire here, and I know I should stay and live out the dream.

“And I know I should stay and live out the dream.” I smile, shaking my head as tears leak from the corners of my eyes and run down my temples.

Although I feel an insane amount of sadness, I also feel so much fulfilment. I can’t imagine living a life without the one person you love, and to think Ralph is at peace with Elsie now, makes it all feel a little less shit.

I read over Ralph’s letter many times before I stand and leave the chapel. The BMW is waiting for me by the pavement, and I slide in, the letter still held in my hand.

“Scott, will you take me home?”

“Of course.”

I shake my head, but he doesn’t see, already pulling out into the traffic. “No. I mean—”

“Home,” he emphasises the word, slowing his movements as he catches on immediately.

He turns to face me.

I sit with that feeling of absoluteness like a drug in my veins, and I nod. “I want to go home.”





EPILOGUE





CHAPTER ONE - THE REUNION





Lucy





I should’ve gone home and got changed.

That’s all I can think about as I ride the elevator to Elliot’s floor. When we touched down in Heathrow, there was a car waiting for Scott and me. He was easier to convince than I expected and agreed to not tell Elliot that we were coming home.

When Scott asked where I’d be going from the airport, I hesitated for all of a second before I told him to take me to The Montwell—which is the explanation behind my leggings, sweatshirt, and trainers.

It’s comfy, and I’m totally rocking it, but it definitely garnered some questioning looks from the ladies at the front desk.

George is at the reception desk when the elevator doors slide open, and I have to lift my hand to tell him to shut up the second he sees me.

“No frigging way!!” he exclaims. “What are you doing here? I thought Elliot was coming out for Christmas?”

I shake my head, smiling. “I’m coming home.”

“Oh,” he mutters, his eyes sparkling. “Oh, Lucy, this is the most wonderful thing I’ve heard all year!”

“Thank you, George. I hope your boss thinks so too.”

“You already know how that man is going to take this.”

I chuckle as he smooths out the wispy pieces of hair that have fallen from my bun.

“I wish I could be there to see his face.”

“Is he in?”

George nods, walking a few steps with a hand on my back. “He’s working, but you’re going to be a welcomed interruption.”

“Thank you, George.” I give him a warm grin and walk down the corridor.